


Mein Herz geht auf wenn Du lachst

by nupoxsi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Wives No Kids, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are different ways to respond when you get a surprise. Sometimes surprises are awful, especially when you're too stressed or tired and they catch you with your guard off. But there are other times when a surprise can make you the happiest person on earth, something you could've never thought of, a little action that brings you all the joy in the world.</p><p>It's December. Christmas is in the air.<br/>Mario gets a big surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mein Herz geht auf wenn Du lachst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pellondie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pellondie/gifts).



> First of all, I wrote this about a couple of months ago, so a few things in here might not fit with some of the _current_ events. That's the main reason why I'm tagging this as "canon divergence". Apart from that, everything is practically the same.  
>  Second, I wrote this for the wonderful [Suzie](http://whenbrotherbreak.tumblr.com/), whom I love lots. I kind of got her into Müllez months ago and this is my way of saying sorry for all the pain and tears this pairing has brought her. 
> 
> Title comes from Sportfreunde Stiller's Applaus Applaus.
> 
> And last, I've been waiting for this day to post this work!  
> I want to wish you all a Merry Christmas, I really hope you're able to spend this day with your loved ones and have a great time with them. I hope you like this work :).

 

 

Mario wakes up to the loud sound of music coming from downstairs. He rolls in bed, trying uselessly to ignore the sound and fall back to sleep. Sleepy as he is, he does a brief recap of who could be in his house early in the morning and quickly comes with the conclusion it must be his sister coming to visit him for Christmas. Mario pushes the blanket away and lets his body attenuate to the chill of the room. It isn’t as cold as it was in Bavaria, but Firenze is currently covered in snow and has been ever since early November, the weather changing drastically from sunny to cold, cloudy days.

As his bare feet meet the cold wooden floor Mario gets goosebumps, and he takes a mental note on turning the heat on before he goes to sleep.

Once he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth he walks over to his wardrobe and grabs a black sweater, putting it on. He glances at the clock in the room and notices it’s not even 8 am, so he mentally curses his sister while the chorus of _“Wake Me Up”_ can be heard all over the house.

Still heavy with sleep Mario comes out of his bedroom in small motions and makes his way downstairs, taking one step at a time, yawning several times. The realisation that he shouldn’t have called Thomas so late last night hits him in that precise moment, knowing the call wouldn’t be nearly 20 minutes long, but it's Thomas. When Thomas told him he missed his voice Mario couldn’t really help himself. That night they spoke about several things, most of them were unimportant, but Mario would rather listen to Thomas rambling about ice-cream if that meant he’d be making Thomas happy. Also, the couple of minutes they are used to take to say how much they love each other are worth it. By the time he reaches the living room, the song that was previously playing is over and replaced by the intro of an Arctic Monkeys song Mario can’t really remember the name of.

Unconsciously, he starts mumbling the melody of the catchy song. He is on his way to the kitchen, when out of the corner of his eye he notices a bag resting on the floor, near to the front door. It’s dark blue, a white adidas logo embroidered to the fabric. It doesn’t look girly at all, he thinks, knowing the type of bags his sister used to carry with her whenever she came to visit, but even if it’s a bit strange he doesn’t worry himself over it. It’s Christmas, so he simply shrugs and keeps walking.

As he approaches the kitchen he perceives the strong of smell of recently brewed black coffee. His lips curve into a smile. If there’s something Mario loves is waking up and having a nice mug filled with hot, black coffee already at his reach. Only a few people are aware of that, and the thought of his sister doing it for him makes him feel warm inside. Almost instantly he regrets cursing her earlier, and decides to even pay her no mind for playing music in his house.

 

“G’morning,” Mario says loudly so he can be heard over the music, voice still groggy with sleep, before walking into the kitchen.

 

He freezes on his spot before he can even reach the coffee machine and feels he has falling into a dream. Thomas is standing in front of the stove, cooking what from Mario’s spot look like scrambled eggs. Taken aback, Mario doesn’t dare to move. Thomas is there, wearing one of those incredibly Christmas-y jumpers with reindeers, the ones Mario has always thought looked really funny on him.

Thomas looks up and his eyes immediately brighten up at the sight of him. It feels as if he’s being brought back to life when Thomas smiles broadly at him, practically dropping the spoon with a loud clang on what he’s been cooking. Suddenly the room looks brighter, the air feels warmer, and Mario feels himself smiling back. Thomas waves at him enthusiastically from meters of distance, and then he is reaching for his iPhone with his free hand and muting the song. “Morning.”

Mario doesn’t know if he runs or how fast he walks, but just in seconds he’s standing in front of Thomas, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist and his face buried on the crook of his neck. “Thomas,” he breaths and lets his eyelids drop as he the name leaves his mouth, lips twisting into the happiest smile he could ever wear.

 

“Hi, Mario,” Thomas replies happily, Mario doesn’t even need to see him to know he’s grinning. Just a heartbeat later, Thomas is returning the hug, holding onto Mario’s sweater as if his life depended on it.

 

Without any anticipation Mario lifts his head and one of his hands quickly find the back of Thomas’ neck, he stares into Thomas’ face and _God_ , he’s missed him so much. His thumb brushes smoothly the bare skin of his neck and Thomas giggles softly. “Still ticklish, aren’t we?” he says with amusement, mimicking his precious actions. Thomas simply giggles a bit more and tilts his head to one side, yet doesn’t flinch nor does he try to get away from Mario’s touch.

Everything feels perfect again. Mario looks into Thomas’ eyes when he keeps still for a few seconds and just leans in, closing all the distance between them, and presses his lips against Thomas’. Softly, slowly, just as one of the first kisses they shared a couple of years ago. Mario thinks he’s never going to get tired of kissing Thomas, especially because of the way Thomas parts his lips for him, and the way Thomas lets out little sounds even when they lips are still firmly pressed together, and just the way Thomas simply _fits_.

They break the kiss a bit breathless and they both smile. Looking at him, Mario adverts a red colour on Thomas’ cheeks that makes him look incredibly adorable. Mario kisses both of his cheeks softly and gives him one last peck on the mouth before finally breaking the hug.

 

“Well, this is what I call a surprise,” Mario says. He glances quickly at the food on the stove to make sure nothing got burnt, and once he’s sure everything is alright, his eyes meet Thomas’ again. “An excellent surprise.”

“I know,” he agrees, and he sounds so happy and filled with glee that Mario almost forgets it’s still early in the morning. “I let myself in― well, that’s why you gave me a copy of your keys in the first place― but I got my way around in the kitchen and found where everything was and- look! I also made breakfast,” Thomas says way-too-quickly and has to catch a gasp of air to continue speaking. “Also, what a pretty Christmas tree. Looks better in person,” he adds.

 

Mario chuckles. On his defense, he put the Christmas tree all by himself on the first December week. A few nights later, while they were Skyping together, Mario decided to he show Thomas his creation. The tree was kind of bent to one side, the star on the top didn’t match the ornaments, but for Mario it was enough, the amount of Christmas lights and ribbons did all the charm. Thomas laughed out loud and told him it looked pretty awful, but Mario assured him it was the camera of his laptop that made it look funny.

 

“I told you,” he says and reaches to hold Thomas’ hand in his own. Thomas gets a hint and laces their fingers together.

 

“I’m glad to be able to see it in person, then,” Thomas confesses and this time he leans in to give Mario a peck on the cheek. “Come, I’ve even made you some coffee,” he says as he backs up a little. Mario simply smiles and lets him guide him towards the coffee machine by the hand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They eat breakfast and Mario listens to all the kind of different stories Thomas has to tell. They go from the time he won 13-2 on FIFA against Bastian to the time they made Javi sing and dance Single Ladies in front of the whole squad. Mario is well aware that some of the stories are clearly exaggerated but he doesn’t really care, he’s lost somewhere between Thomas’ smile and Thomas’ laughter.

“...and we didn’t actually know Thiago could play the ukulele, so he accused us all of being inconsiderate― because, obviously, it’s so normal for a football player to play the ukulele, how could we be so rude to not have it in mind,” Thomas says once they’re settled on the couch near the Christmas tree. Mario is sitting right next to him and he laughs as Thomas rolls his eyes, probably irritated at the memory. “I mean, who the fuck even asks some if they play the ukulele?”

Mario smiles. “You. I’m sure you’d definitely ask someone, and completely out of the blue, if they play the ukulele.”

Thomas pouts at that but it slowly turns to a thoughtful expression and then he simply grins. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Of course I am right, and I love that randomness you have,” Mario says with confidence and plants a kiss on the palm of Thomas’ hand he’s currently holding. “Also, are you leaving tomorrow?” he asks with a bit of sadness in his voice. The Club’s World Cup should begin in exactly three days from now and Mario’s been guessing Thomas will have to go with at least one day of anticipation.

“Nah,” is Thomas’ short reply. Mario furrows his brows and stop playing with Thomas’ hand in his own, tracing the lines of Thomas’ palm with his thumb. He is about to ask why, but Thomas is one step ahead of him and answers his unspoken question. “I actually can’t because I am, well, let’s just say I’m slightly injured.”

Mario tilts his head. “You’re… _injured_?”

“Yeah…well, I’m not really injured _injured_ ,” he says again and does a quotation mark sign with his free hand. “The thing is, I’m not playing football until January and I’m planning on staying here until then.”

“Oh.” The word leaves Mario’s mouth before he even realises it. He gazes at the Christmas tree’s light flickering for a few second and lightly squeezes Thomas’ hand. “You are not going to the Club’s World Cup because of _me_?”

Thomas flashes him a small smile and squeezes back. “‘S not that important anyway. We’re always going to every kind of tournament,” Thomas says with a shrug. “And I’m sure we’re winning it. They don’t need me, you do.”

 

Mario wants to scold him, wants to tell him it is a big deal. Players only go if the team they’re part of win the European Supercup. A player is only allowed to go if they’re part of the greatest team in Europe. And yet Thomas is here, right in front of him, and Thomas is letting go of that chance to be with him.

 

“Hey,” Thomas mumbles and shifts closer to him on the couch. He takes both of Mario’s hands on his own and smiles in an unique way, the only smile that can make Mario forget about anyone and anything else in the entire world. “I decided to skip it because I’d rather spend my days with you than with the guys I practically see every day,” Thomas says softly as a whisper. “You, Mario Gómez,” he says while he leans in to kiss him merrily on the lips, “are way more important to me than football is.”

 

And Mario knows he means it.

Mario is about to tell him to reconsider that sentence, but he simply chuckles in return and whispers back something in italian. Thomas’ puzzled look makes him chuckle one more time. “I love you so much,” he says and he thinks he can hear Thomas saying «me too, idiot,» but he closes the space between them and crashes their lips together, kissing Thomas for what feels the sixth time in an awful long time.

  
As Thomas practically begins to crawl into his lap Mario knows these are going to be the best holidays of his life.


End file.
